sailsonicli - surprise canard
(2017 Self-Released)
Tape loops and sampled strings trickle like a woodland stream; like blood through veins. Their whispered interplay is more felt than heard. The intro to surprise canard is carved in loosened sediment, spongy to the touch. As degraded as a VHS tape's decaying soundtrack, sailsonicli's plunderphonic arrangement is a distant glimmer of tranquility in need of a documentarian's voice-over: Oneohtrix meets Reedbeds meets Ken Burns.
Following the Danish solo act's intro are a pair of instrumental jams that layer analogous coats of Duster-esque guitar atop rickety rhythms. The former, "postjudice box-ed", knots its taut threads of riffage into a cradle for its liturgical chants, reverberated into the dream-pop void. It's here that sailsonicli most effectively demonstrate their attention to detail. Sudden swells of bass act as trampoline springs that catch falling melodies. Rich weaves of vocal harmony ensure a soft landing. Tinny pluckings ooze just enough residual echo to form their impression on the wall, like a passing car's nighttime silhouette that sneaks through your bedroom window.
Though equally as ambient, closing cut "Establishment" is the antithesis to surprise canard's intro: dense, silver-screen cinematic, and forcefully pretty. Walls of crumbling synth muffle the outside creep of buttery dawn like a tightly-packed igloo. sailsonicli's music spans the freeze and thaw of February-to-March. Grab a pair of earbuds and enjoy the seasonal shift.
